


Hater and the Highness

by demalore



Category: Wander Over Yonder
Genre: M/M, death glare for real this time i promise, prince peepers au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 18:19:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7449397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demalore/pseuds/demalore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Villains throughout the galaxy have started taking up the business of conquering planets, and Lord Hater is no different.  Taking over a dumb eyeball planet shouldn't be too hard, unless the uptight prince of that planet gets in his way.  Prince Peepers AU, a.k.a. How Lord Hater met Peepers and the Watchdogs (probably).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Planetary Conqueror

**Author's Note:**

> Prince Peepers AU inspired by [this post](http://charlesoberonn.tumblr.com/post/146618641726/woy-theory)! Check out [ this blog](http://princepeepers.tumblr.com/) for more! (or just click [here](http://princepeepers.tumblr.com/tagged/pix) for the art/comics this was based of off, done by the lovely [lesbianmonarch](http://lesbianmonarch.tumblr.com/)!)

“Prince Peepers, your Majesty, there’s, ah, a... _disturbance_ at the front gate.”

The prince jumped to his feet, standing menacingly on his throne.  “An uprising?  Are the people rebelling?”  He shook a fist at the imaginary protesters.  “They’ll soon be squashed by the mi-”

“No, no, your Majesty,” the guard shook his head, “your citizens are perfectly happy under your most gracious rule, as always.”

“Figures,” the prince grumbled, falling back into his chair and drumming his fingers against the gem-studded armrest.

“It’s just one of those self-declared villains, a new one from the looks of it,” the soldier explained, arching his head to look out the window while remaining at his post.  “He doesn’t seem to be doing any real damage, just yelling a lot and playing some awful music.”

“So I hear,” the prince answered sourly.  He could hear the intruder’s out-of-tune guitar from his throne.  “Bring him inside, I suppose.  No use rolling out the army for one stupid upstart.”

“Understood, your Majesty,” the soldier bowed.  Smiting his spear against the ground, the soldier marched out of the palace, followed by the other palace guards.

The prince stared at the wall.  Chasing off this rookie would be some entertainment, but it was still too easy.  The Eyevans were a peaceful people and never caused any _real_ trouble besides goofing off now and again, nothing that demanded royal intervention.  The prince’s only source of excitement was when these foreigners visited his planet, most in an attempt to conquer it.  So far, a handful of his elite soldiers--the Eyevi League--were able to brush these so-called villains aside without a fuss.  It was ridiculous, really, but at least it was something to do.

Tired of waiting, the prince called for a mirror and his eyelash grooming supplies.  As one servant held the mirror in front of him, he glossed and straightened his eyelashes.  If he couldn’t make a big show of kicking this poser out, he could at least make a powerful impression.  And considering his unfortunate lack of, erm, _height,_ he’d have to compensate by looking perfectly princely in every other manner possible, which meant perfectly groomed eyelashes.

The prince heard his palace doors open, but kept his gaze on the mirror.  He heard an awkward shuffling of oversized feet along with the measured march of his soldiers, and assumed it was the villain wannabe.

“You have permission to speak,” he droned haughtily, blinking slowly in the mirror.

“Whatever, I don’t need your _permission,_ ” a gravelly voice sassed.  One of the soldiers gasped, but the prince just rolled his eye.

“I’m trying to tell these stupid guys that I’m their ruler now, but everyone just keeps laughing at me!” the villain went on, his threatening growl quickly turning into a whine.

“And why would _you_ be their ruler?” the prince asked.  Whatever reason this guy had for becoming a villain, it certainly wasn’t because of his stunning intellect.

“Because I am LORD HATER, the Greatest in the Galaxy!” the villain yelled dramatically.  “All of the planets in the universe will bow to me, starting with...this...dumb...eyeball planet!”

“I’m sure,” the prince sighed.  He turned his head to inspect both sides of his eye, and decided that they were as perfect as they could be.  “And is there any reason we should listen to you?  Do you have an army, perhaps?  Some strategy for taking over our planet?”

In a much softer voice, the villain answered, “Uh, well, no, not _yet_ , but I-”

“Then why would I in the name of all that’s spherical allow you to-” the servant lowered the mirror, and the prince’s condescending gaze locked onto the villain, his voice cut off with a yelp.

Lord Hater was definitely taller than the prince had expected, towering over the soldiers surrounding him.  Why, he had to be at least four times taller than the prince, and he was even _slouching_.  A dark red cloak swelled over his mountainous shoulders, narrowing at his ankles and spilling over his feet.  Above his massive chest was a skinless white face, his strong jaw jutting out over his nonexistent neck.  The prince’s eye traveled from his chiseled jawline to his electric green eyes.  If it wasn’t for the way Lord Hater was nervously twiddling his fingers, he would’ve been terrifying.

The prince clutched his armrests.  His years of public speaking practice had abandoned him, leaving him with nothing but incoherent stammering.

Suddenly impatient, Lord Hater let loose an explosion of green lightning, the deadly voltage writhing around his broad arms.  He pointed menacingly at the prince.  “You will hand your planet over to me, or I will destroy you!”

With a single, charged finger pointing at his heart, the prince felt that he would faint.  In only seconds he had gone from bored to breathless, his heart throbbing with a mixture of fear and exhilaration.  He hardly knew whether to pay more attention to the villain’s imminent electric blast or his gripping, evil eyes.

The prince didn’t notice that his soldiers had moved until they were nearly on top of the villain.  Finding his words, the prince screeched, “Stop it, all of you!”  His soldiers lowered their spears, and Lord Hater lowered his arms, dropping his gaze to the floor like a kicked puppy.

“I will commune with…’Lord Hater’ in private,” the prince ordered, giving his soldiers a haughty shooing gesture.

The soldiers seemed reluctant to leave.  “B-but, your Majesty-”

The prince narrowed his eye dangerously.  “In.   _Private._ ”

 

“So...Hater, was it?”

“That’s LORD Hater to you!” the villain exclaimed, pounding his hands on the table.

The prince was startled for a moment, staring at the arms that were twice as big as he was, but quickly composed himself.

“Yes...Lord Hater.  Well, I’d be happy to appoint you as an honorary leader of this planet, provided that you leave the entirety of the planetary management to the royal court appointed by the Eyevan electorate.”

Lord Hater simply blinked.

The prince held in an eye roll.  “We’ll say that you’re the leader, but we’ll do all the leader stuff.”

“Oh, yeah, that sounds perfect!”  Lord Hater nodded, reaching across the table to shake the prince’s hand.  “Welp, guess we’re done here!  I’ll just-”

“No!” the prince commanded, pulling his hand out of Lord Hater’s grasp.  “What, you think there’s a paper you can sign to make you king of the planet, just like that?”

“Grop, I hope not, that sounds like a lot of work,” Lord Hater groaned, kicking his feet like a toddler.

The prince let out a heavy breath.  “We have to keep with our existing traditions.  Since you obviously lack the capabilities to take our planet by force, and I can’t imagine you’re willing to sit around until next year’s election, the only other way to claim a spot in the royal court is through...familial connection.”

Lord Hater blinked again.

“You have to  _ marry _ someone already on the court.”

A green blush lit up Lord Hater’s pale face.  “Well, gosh,” he mumbled, “I hadn’t really...thought about settling down yet.  Was gonna wait and find the right person first, but-”

“It would be purely political,” the prince clarified quickly.  “Plenty of villains use such methods to gain stronger holds on their conquered planets.  You’re free to marry someone else later.”

“Oh, that’s a relief!  Wouldn’t want to be tied down to a creepy eyeball girl forever!” Lord Hater laughed.  Seeing the appalled look on the prince’s face, he pretended to cough, unsuccessfully covering up his offensive joke.

“I’ll bet,” the prince snipped, both short words heavy with meaning.  “Well, we can hold a ball tonight and invite all the members of the royal court, and after you make your choice, we’ll have a short wedding.”

“Really, so soon?” Hater asked, becoming flustered again.  “Can’t we have some time to, y’know, get to know each other-”

“Political,” the prince repeated.

“Oh, right,” Lord Hater muttered under his breath.  “Guess I’ll...see you tonight, then.”

“Indeed,” the prince answered, his voice’s snobbish edge gone.  The skeletal villain lumbered away, seeming to drag his shabbily sneakered feet on the expensive floor.

_ Great, _ the prince thought,  _ and now I have a ball to plan. _


	2. The Fancy Ball

Under the prince’s careful command, the palace was transformed from a place of business (as the prince preferred it) to a place of luxury.  The wide central halls were adorned with trinkets and tapestries, anything to promote a feeling of opulence.  There hadn’t been a royal ceremony in ages--not since the prince’s coronation, in fact--so there was much work to be done, but the excitement over the rare occasion made it go by quickly.

Lord Hater had immediately been ushered out once preparations began, and he spent his time looking over the planet that was soon to be his.  The eyeball guys had freaked him out a little at first, but he was getting used to them.  They all stared at him as he walked by, but he assumed that that was just because of how awesome and evil he was.  Maybe they weren’t so dumb after all!

He would’ve liked for them to look a little more afraid, though.  The only person he had managed to scare so far was the prince, and that was only for a second.  Couldn’t they see how strong and powerful he was?  They were just puny little eyeballs with legs, they should be terrified of him!

Dusk crept into the cloudless sky, and Hater remembered the ball.  Returning to the palace, he began to feel excited about all the hot princesses he was about to meet.  Even if they looked like these gross eyeball guys, one of them had to be at least a  _ little _ cute, right?  All princesses were cute, after all.  All girls, for that matter.  And even...nah, never mind.

Hater was greeted into the dining room with a respectful round of applause.  All members of the Eyevan royal court were seated at a long, narrow table, leaving the two head seats vacant.  Naturally, Hater took his place at the head of the table, staring down at the runts around him.

A few quiet moments passed before Hater realized what was missing.  “Hey, where are the princesses?  I’m supposed to marry one tonight, that was the deal!”  He scowled down both sides of the table, grinding his teeth threateningly.  No one looked particularly threatened, as if they had expected something like this to happen.

“I’m afraid our kingdom does not currently have a princess,” an guest on his left said, looking Lord Hater up and down with nothing short of distaste.  “However, there are plenty of baronesses and noblewomen for you to-”

“No!  I want a princess!” Lord Hater demanded, banging his silverware on the table.

The Eyevan squinted at the childlike villain.  “Then I guess you’ll have to look somewhere else.”

Lord Hater looked sheepishly at the other guests, who were all staring at him with the same haughty displeasure.  They weren’t here to celebrate or congradulate him.  They didn’t look like they wanted to be here at all.

His confidence stolen by their icy glares, Hater hung his head.  “Fine, let’s just skip to the wedding and get this-”

The doors behind him burst open, and all of the guests perked up, no longer glaring at him.  Lord Hater turned around, and saw the prince at the top of a high flight of stairs, coming down toward the table.  The villain forgot why he had felt so down a few seconds ago.

At the top of the staircase, the prince looked shorter than ever.  A crown twice the size of his head dazzled with precious jewels, blood red rubies complementing the color of his single eye.  A crisp black suit hugged his tiny limbs, its fringed shoulder cuffs and double rows of buttons the only things indicating that it was a royal garb.  A pair of high-heeled boots supplemented the prince’s pathetic height, but drastically slowed his journey to the bottom of the stairs.

“Welcome, everyone,” the prince said as he walked, his speech practiced but apathetic.  “We are here tonight in honor of Lord Hater, who will soon be assumed into the royal court.  I don’t typically care for such gatherings, but I hope you enjoy yourselves all the same.”

The prince took his seat next to Lord Hater, giving him no more than a cursory glance.  “Glad you could make it.  All dressed up, I see?” he asked sarcastically.  He had a feeling that Lord Hater hadn’t so much as washed his hands before the dinner.

Embarrassed again, Lord Hater scowled at the prince.  “Yeah, well I don’t  _ have  _ to dress up!  This is  _ my _ dinner!  And besides, not like there are any princesses here, anyway!”

The prince flinched.  “Well, if you had bothered to ask earlier, perhaps you’d know that I am currently the only member of the royal family.”  
“What?” Lord Hater boomed.  “Then how am I supposed to be king?”

“I never said ‘king’,” the prince replied shortly, “I said ‘royal court’.  We’re transitioning to a democracy, anyway, so in a few years-”

“I can’t wait a few years!  I want to be king  _ now!” _  Lord Hater demanded, drawing the attention of the other guests.  He didn’t notice their glares this time, too busy arguing with the prince.

The prince took a deep breath and closed his eye.  “Unless a princess magically appears, I guess you’re out of luck.”

Lord Hater slumped in his seat.  He had spent his whole morning terrorizing the people on this planet, had to have a boring conversation with...with some dumb eyeball guy, and now he didn’t even get to be king?  He had  _ so _ picked the wrong planet to land on.

 

The dinner turned out to be the highlight of Lord Hater’s day.  Maybe it was just the fact that he had been living on his own paltry cooking skills for years, but the Eyevans’ cooking almost made up for how annoying they were.  Even with the supersized portions they served him, Hater still devoured second and third helpings of every course.

Most of the other guests were disgusted by Hater’s eating, but the prince didn’t comment.  He tended to his own food, occasionally glancing at Lord Hater and giving him one of those weird one-eyed smirks.  Lord Hater wasn’t sure if the prince was mocking him or just had something stuck in his eye, but he didn’t care.  He just had to get through this dinner and the wedding and he’d never have to look at his dumb little eyeball face ever again.

Before Lord Hater could ask for a fourth helping of dessert, the dishes were cleared away.  “Hey, I wasn’t finished yet!” Hater protested, waving his arms at the servants, who were deaf to his orders.

“It’s time for the dancing portion of the ball,” the prince said, pushing his plate of hardly-touched food away and standing up.  “Since you were too busy stuffing your face to hold any conversation during the dinner, this is your chance to mingle.”

“Wait, where are  _ you _ going?” Lord Hater asked as the prince went back toward the staircase.

“Just...need to change clothes,” the prince stammered.  He rushed up the stairs, nearly tripping on his high-heel boots in the process.

Lord Hater gulped, warily watching the social commotion brewing in the middle of the room.  The table had been cleared away, leaving space for a large dance floor.  A slow tune had already started up, but few of the guests were dancing.  Most were sticking to the sides of the room, eating tiny hors d'oeuvres off of silver platters and making small talk with the other guests.  They had already molded themselves into distinct groups, leaving Hater on his own.

He tried to break his way into some of the groups, which was easy thanks to his size, but was met with the same awkward stares from before.  None of them seemed especially eager to talk to him, much less  _ marry _ him.  He knew that the prince had said it would be a purely political union, but shouldn’t the person he married at least  _ like _ him?

Lord Hater slowly drifted away from the other guests, clutching a tiny champagne glass and shuffling his feet.  The sound of tiny feet descending the staircase startled him from his self-pity, and he looked hopefully at the stairs.  Out of all these eyeball guys, there was at least  _ one _ that would actually  _ talk _ to him.

Stepping carefully down the staircase was the prince, wearing a similar suit, just with more useless buttons and tassles and other things to look fancy.  The only really notable change was the taller boots.  Lord Hater stopped himself from running up to meet the prince, instead letting the prince come to him.

“I do hope you’re enjoying yourself,” the prince said, although from the looks of things, Lord Hater wasn’t enjoying himself at all.  “Have you found a suitable...partner, yet?”

“N-no, not yet,” Lord Hater replied, gripping his glass even tighter.

“Just ask someone to dance.  That’s as good a way as any to meet new people.”

Lord Hater gulped.  “I, uh, I don’t know how...to dance…”

“Figures,” the prince sighed.  “Come on, then.”

With surprising force, the prince pulled Lord Hater onto the dance floor.  A few more couples had begun to dance, but easily made room for the prince and the guest of honor.  Lord Hater nervously handed his empty glass to a servant and held onto the prince’s hands for dear life.

The prince gently guided Lord Hater’s right hand to his waist.  “There we go.  Now, you lead.”

“What?  I don’t even know how-” Lord Hater looked to the floor.  He watched the prince’s simple steps, then tried doing them himself.

“There, that’s just fine,” the prince assured, although Lord Hater could tell he was struggling to keep up with his large steps.  Lord Hater narrowed his steps, trying to at least meet the prince halfway.

Once they had both comfortably settled into an uncomplicated dance, the prince relaxed, leaning slightly into Lord Hater’s hand.  “I’m sorry, you know.  That there’s not a princess.”

“Yeah, well-” Lord Hater flared up, but the prince’s heavy half-lidded gaze cooled him down.  “It’s...not your fault or anything.”

The music drifted into a slow dance, drawing a few more guests onto the dance floor.  Lord Hater rolled his eyes.  What was with all this sappy music?

“Ugh, don’t these songs have any words?” he complained, begrudgingly slowing his pace to match the sluggish tune.

“Actually, I think this one does,” the prince perked up.  “ _ Tiiiime as ooold as youuu…. _ ”

Lord Hater had never heard this song, and so made up his own lyrics.  “ _ Lord Haterrr....and the king…. _ ”

Peepers looked surprised, his short musical trance broken.  “King?  I’m not a king, I’m a prince!”

Hater looked just as surprised.  “What?  So there’s no king at all right now?”

“Not until I get married,” the prince said, looking sideways to avoid Lord Hater’s eyes.  “Then I guess that person would be queen-”

“Or king,” Lord Hater jumped in.

Still turned away from his dancing partner, the prince abruptly stopped dancing, and Lord Hater followed suit.  “Yeah, I guess so,” the prince murmured, staring intently at the wall.

Lord Hater felt awkward just standing in the middle of the dance floor, so he scooped the motionless prince up to continue dancing.  The prince flailed his legs as Lord Hater picked him up, but made no request to be put back down.

“Are you proposing what I think you’re proposing?” the prince asked breathlessly.

“Well, I still want to be king,” Lord Hater answered, now avoiding the prince’s eye so that neither of them were looking at each other.  “And...if this is the only way to do it…”

“Fine, on one condition,” the prince said sharply before Lord Hater could change his mind.

Lord Hater narrowed his eyes.  “What?  Is there some other dumb rule about marrying the prince?  Do I still get to be-”

“No, there’s no rule,” the prince shook his head, “it’s more of a, ah,  _ personal _ request.”

Lord Hater leaned apprehensively away from the prince.  “You...said this was just a political thing…”

“It is,” the prince assured, nodding quickly.  “I just...you don’t have any followers yet, right?  No minions or soldiers or...that sort of thing?”

Lord Hater didn’t answer, and the prince took it as a ‘no’.

“Then take me with you.”

“What? No way!” Lord Hater said, drawing a few concerned glances from the other dancers.  “You’re a prince, you don’t know the first thing about-”

“I’ll learn,” the prince interjected eagerly.  “I’ll do anything you need me to do.  Grop, I’ll be a hat rack, just  _ please _ , let me come with you!  It’s so boring and peaceful here, I want to see the galaxy…”

Lord Hater paused.  “And...conquer it?”

“Yeah,” the prince said with relish, “and conquer it!”

Lord Hater took a good look of the tiny eyeball guy sitting in his hand.  He had pictured his army being huge and tough, and this prince wasn’t either of those things.  He was little, and refined, and...well, a lot smarter than Lord Hater was.  If the prince could run a whole planet, he must be at least  _ somewhat _ useful.

“Fine,” Lord Hater said with a grin.  “You can be the first minion of the Hater Empire.”

The prince said nothing, too choked up to speak.

“Besides,” Lord Hater went on, clearing his throat and directing his gaze elsewhere, “you’re too short to make a good hat rack, anyway.”


	3. The (Political) Wedding

One of the royal officials approached the two dancers, but couldn’t get their attention until he pulled on Lord Hater’s cloak.  “Mister...Hater?  The dance is over, have you chosen who you’re going to marry?”

Lord Hater glared down at the annoying interruption.  “What do you think, pipsqueak?”

The official gave a strange look to the prince, still seated quite comfortably in Lord Hater’s hand, then gave them both a bow.  “Understood.  The ceremony will commence shortly.”

The official left them alone, and Lord Hater’s temporary confidence left along with him.  “Is there any, erm, anything I need to do?  Before the wedding?”

“I should put on something a bit more...formal,” the prince said, looking down at his own clothes, and then at Lord Hater’s.  “And you…”

“What?  What’s wrong with my clothes?” Lord Hater challenged.

“Nothing,” the prince answered with a fearful chuckle.  “But...I did take the liberty of having the tailor make you something more...suitable for the occasion.”

“Whatever.  I don’t need your dumb eyeball clothes,” Lord Hater scoffed.  He set the prince down, and a group of servants immediately surrounded him, chattering excitedly about the wedding.

After the prince was whisked away, one servant approached Hater timidly, hands clasped behind his back.  “M-Mister Hater?”

“Fine, I’ll change into some fancy-schmancy clothes,” he acquiesced, following the servant to a guest room.  “But I’m keeping the outfit!”

 

No surprise, the ballroom had transformed into an elegant wedding hall by the time Lord Hater changed clothes.  The outfit the prince had gotten made for him wasn’t very different from his own cloak.  In fact, it was identical, apart from the fact that it was incredibly sparkly.  Lord Hater kept muttering things like ‘lame’ and ‘dumb’ as he looked at himself in the mirror, but an uncharacteristic smile was creeping onto his face.

A servant led him to the altar at the very front of the room, underneath an arch threaded with red and green flowers.  Lord Hater shuffled into his position at the front of the room, just to the side of the crimson carpet stretching down the center aisle.  He peered at the door at the back of the room, under which the carpet disappeared, and hundreds of Eyevans stared back at him.  Lord Hater attempted a meek wave to the crowd, but no one returned the gesture.  Tucking his arms back in to his chest, Lord Hater watched the doors ravenously, hoping this whole dumb ceremony would be over soon.

Dramatic music swelled from an unknown source, and the back doors flew open.  Everyone turned around to watch as the prince entered, and, now that he wasn’t being stared at, Lord Hater got a good look at the prince as he came up the aisle.

Instead of a suit, the prince was now wearing a flowing blue dress.  The outfit wasn’t as complex as the other two had been, no ornaments or accessories, but was easily the most flattering of the three.  It was hard for Lord Hater to get a good look at the prince’s shoes, as the dress easily reached the floor and trailed a ways behind him, but Hater swore that the high-heeled slippers the prince was wearing now were even taller than the last ones.  The outfit didn’t really match the prince’s intense red eye, but Lord Hater thought it looked pretty, or whatever.

The prince stepped rigidly down the aisle, clutching a red-and-green bouquet to his chest.  He kept his gaze fixed straight ahead at Hater, even as his people cheered and reached out to touch his dress.  Lord Hater’s face began to feel hot, and he realized that he had been holding his breath.  He closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths.  This was just political, the prince had said so himself.

“Took you long enough,” Lord Hater grumbled once the prince finally reached the altar.  Those high heels did wonders for his height, but did slow him down a lot.

“Do you like your robe?” the prince asked, sounding a bit breathless himself.

“It’s okay,” Lord Hater mumbled back.

Once the ceremony began, both of the soon-to-be-weds relaxed, completely ignoring whatever rites were being said.  The two stood completely still throughout the ceremony, apart from a few ill-disguised glances at each other, as if checking to make sure they were still there.

After what felt like seconds, the minister raised his arms around the couple.  “I present your kings!” he declared, setting off another eruption of celebration through the crowd.

“What?  That’s not what you say!” Lord Hater sputtered, glaring down at the minister.  “I’ve seen these things on TV, and you’re _supposed_ to say ‘you may now kiss the bride!’”

The minister twiddled his fingers, looking down at the useless book in his hands.  “I-I suppose, but seeing as this is a union of the state-”

“Just say it!” Lord Hater ordered, lightning beginning to snake around his shaking body.

“Youmaynowkissthebride!” the minister squeaked, backing away from the couple.

The prince had stared, wide-eyed, at Hater throughout the exchange, but made no objection as Lord Hater’s face swooped down to meet his.  He hadn’t kissed a non-Eyevan before, but his oversized eyelid and Hater’s stone-hard mouth fit together surprisingly well.  The prince unconsciously leaned onto the tips of the toes, getting as close as he could to Lord Hater without leaping into his arms.

So much for his perfectly-styled eyelashes.

 

Lord Hater graciously saved the prince the trouble of leaping into his arms, as he picked the prince up and ran out of the palace as soon as he decided the ceremony was done.  He didn’t slow his pace until they reached a run-down van parked just outside the kingdom limits.  The prince eagerly claimed the passenger seat, dwarfed by the worn-down leather cushions.

Lord Hater drove out into space, no destination in mind.  As they had done at the altar, they didn’t meet each other’s eyes apart from not-so-sneaky glances.

“So...where to now, Lord Hater?” the prince asked, his voice sounding awfully loud in the silent void of space.

“Hey, not so fast,” Lord Hater scolded with a smile.  “It’s the night after our wedding, isn’t it?  You know what that means?”

The prince shuddered, his pupil only a dot in his enormous white eye.  “You...you don’t-”

“It means you’re officially my minion now!” Lord Hater answered himself triumphantly, doing an impromptu drum solo on the steering wheel.  “No taksies backsies!  You work for  _ me _ now!”

“O-Of course, Lord Hater!” the prince nodded, melting back into his seat with relief.

“Nu-uh, you have to call me ‘King’ now!”

“...wouldn’t that be a little confusing, since I’m also a king?”

Lord Hater considered this.  “Yeah, you’re right.  ‘King Lord Hater’ sounds weird anyway.  How about you just call me ‘sir’, uh…”

Lord Hater’s gulped.  “I, um, don’t think I caught your name?”

The prince stared, then broke into a hysterical laugh.  Hater forced himself to laugh along, feeling awkward but hoping this was a sign that the prince wasn’t mad at him.

“It’s ‘Peepers’, Sir,” the prince answered once he pulled himself back together.

“‘Peepers’,” Lord Hater echoed.  “... _ Commander _ Peepers.  That sounds pretty good, right?”

Peepers’ eye watered up, adding a few more stains to the leather seat.  “It sure does, Sir!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((yo yo I wrote a fic that takes place between this chapter and the next one, so if that'd interest you [here it is](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7908856)))


	4. The Eye-pilogue

Galactic domination ran much more smoothly with Peepers on board.  He easily pointed out ‘pacifist’ planets, ones that had nothing resembling an army.  Lord Hater informed Peepers that he could take down a  _ huge _ army all by himself, but went to those planets anyway, just so that Peepers could feel like he was helping.

But just before Lord Hater could plant a flag on one such planet, fighter ships started swarming at him from all directions.

“Peepers, I thought you said this planet wouldn’t fight back!” Lord Hater yelled, glowering at the hundreds of enemy vessels that filled the sky.

“They...they don’t belong to this planet!” Peepers realized.  “These are my ships!”

The ships landed around the two invaders, and Peepers’ immense array of ground troops, the Watchdogs, came out to meet them.

“What are you doing here?” Peepers yelled at no watchdog in particular.  “You should be back protecting the planet!”

“My apologies, your majesty,” one watchdog spoke up, “but our first and foremost task is to protect our royal rulers.”

“We’re not-!” Peepers sputtered.  He angrily pressed his hands to his head, and, realizing that he was still wearing his crown, took it off and kicked it away.  “We’re not your rulers, we’re villains!  We conquer planets, a-and spread evil and hate throughout the galaxy!”

Still not entirely sure what was going on, Lord Hater stepped up behind Peepers and shouted “Yeah!”

The watchdogs hadn’t expected this response, but they wouldn’t be persuaded to leave this easily.  “Then...then we’ll be villains, too!” one watchdog offered.  “And...do whatever else you said!”  The rest of the troops enthusiastically cheered in agreement.

Peepers rolled his eye.  “This is just-”

“Great!” Lord Hater shouted, looking around at his new army with a satisfied smile.  “So, you all work for me now, and you’re going to help me conquer the galaxy!”

“W-what?” Peepers yelped, “S-Sir, we can’t take them with us!  There’s not even enough space in the van for all of them!”

“Don’t worry about space,” a watchdog said, flourishing a remote control, “We’ve got that taken care of.”

The watchdog pressed a button, and an enormous ship roared into view.  Lord Hater gaped at the skull-shaped monstrosity, and even Peepers was too awed to be angry.  There was certainly enough space in  _ that _ thing for them and the watchdogs.  Peepers had run out of arguments.

“Sweeet!” Lord Hater yelled.  “A whole army of eyeball guys and a ship that looks like my face!  We’ll have the galaxy conquered in no time!”

A giant tongue rolled out of the ship’s mouth, and Lord Hater and the watchdogs climbed onboard.  Peepers stared up at the looming ship, then back at Lord Hater’s van, apparently forgotten.

“Well, it was fun while it lasted,” he sighed, following the others onto the ship.

Lord Hater was already bossing the watchdogs around, but they appeared all too happy to follow his orders.  Maybe they had been just as bored of their peaceful planet as Peepers had been.

Lord Hater’s hungry eyes drifted all around the ship, then snagged onto Peepers.  “Hey, Peepers, come look at this!” he shouted, taking Peepers’ arm and pulling him deeper into the ship.

Peepers couldn’t keep track of where they were going, but when they stopped, they were at the very head of the ship, right behind its towering red eyes.

“Whaddya see, Peepers?” Lord Hater prompted, pushing him close to the glass.

Peepers stared out past their tinted reflections into the endless rush of space.  Countless planets and stars dotted the deep black fabric.  Now that they had an actual ship and a full-scale army, galactic domination didn’t seem like such a lofty goal anymore.

“‘Cuz all I see is a galaxy ripe for conquering!” Lord Hater said, wrapping an arm around Peepers.  “One day this’ll all be ours!”

Peepers’ eye felt heavy, and he blinked back the unwanted moisture.  Tucking his own arm behind Lord Hater’s back, he closed his eye.  “I sure hope so, Sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Click here for another Prince Peepers fic!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7770235/chapters/17722393)

**Author's Note:**

> Criticism is super appreciated!


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